


The Shop Brat Life- Saturday

by Princesszellie



Series: The Shop Brat Life [11]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Carshop!Au, Gen, Teen!Chuck, mechanic!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:07:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saturday's at the dealership are always an adventure OR- Chuck gets in over his head....again. </p><p> </p><p>Part 11/? of the Shop Brat Life series of one shots based on my life as the boss's kid at a large car dealership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shop Brat Life- Saturday

For as long as he could remember Chuck would accompany his Father to work on Saturday’s. At least one Saturday a month Herc would be the supervising manager, and if Charlie had no sports obligations or slumber parties, (or if Mom wanted him out of her hair) he got dragged along to work.

It was always…usually…a fun adventure. When he was little the dealership was his kingdom to run and play in; there were lots of people to visit and lots of sweets and treats to be had and always something exciting going on. It really wasn’t a bad place to grow up.

But once he _did_ grow up it became less about having a building full of people babysitting him all day to becoming slave labor for Dad. By the time he was old enough to type or sort things his freedom to roam as he pleased ended and so began his forced servitude.

Today was a perfect example of his father’s tyranny.

Chuck sighed in exasperation and threw the fistful of papers back onto the floor in front of him. “Are the yellow ones the recalls or the blue ones?”

“Yellows are factory recalls, blues are parts recalls, the green ones are warranty updates….” Dad’s voice floated down from somewhere above him.

“Then what the fuck are the pink ones!?” Chuck asked incredulously.

Herc looked at him over the edge of the desk and his glasses, “Those are for software updates. You _do_ realize they have the category right on the top of the page right?”

His son grunted at him and the rustling sound increased before a great big _poof_ of recall sheets of all colors went flying in the air over his head. Herc rolled his eyes and leaned forward on his elbows so he could see all the way over the edge of his desk. He was greeted by Chuck sprawled on his back in the heaps of paper that littered the floor, the previously airborne recall sheets covering him like oversized confetti.

Chuck looked up at Dad when he heard the snap of a picture being taken. “Hey!”

“Mom will love this…seeing how hard you’re working.” Herc laughed as he sent the picture to his wife and his brother with the caption, ‘Being a Drama Whore again.’

The boy snorted and the piece of blue paper resting on his forehead fluttered away. “How the hell did you let this get so bad…it’s like the apocalypse in here.” Herc’s office was always a tad on the messy side, which was exactly why Charlie was his unpaid personal secretary. Why should he sort the thousands of sheets of paper corporate kicked out to the dealer principals when his kid could do it? He and enough crises and customers to deal with during the week, screw paper work. Besides, it kept the little brat busy and far away from the Becket’s.

But Chuck had a point…it was a lot worse than normal. Things had recently gotten a little stressful around the place and it had all spiraled out of control.

Chuck stretched big and settled into his paper nest for a nap. Going to work always meant getting up way too freaking early for a Saturday and he was still tired from his game last night. The floor and the papers were just comfy enough to work…now if only Dad would shut up….

Herc watched him with mild disbelief but before he could figure out how to ‘motivate’ his son back to invoice sorting, Tendo walked in and solved the problem for him.

Choi walked in took a one-second look at Chuck and anciently on purpose kicked over a stack of papers; the tallish one containing a couple of the binders Chuck was supposed to be putting the recalls into.

Charlie yelped in surprise and was instantly awake and upright as a binder connected with a particularly tender and vulnerable area. “What the hell!?”

“Oops, sorry Chuckles.” Tendo smirked, “Didn’t see you down there.” He smiled in acknowledgement of Herc’s wink and they carried on their conversation like nothing happened.

In the end Dad went out into the shop with Tendo and Chuck was left to his own devices at last. No way in hell was he gonna spend all day with those dusty, greasy papers; it was time to range. Carefully he snuck out of the office and skirted the service bays, especially since he spotted Raleigh and he was in no mood for Becket bullshit.

He knew every inch of the place so it wasn’t hard to make his way ‘upstairs’, which was what the showroom floor and business offices were referred to, without attracting his Father’s or an informer’s unwanted attention. Chuck made a beeline for the conference room where there was sure to be food in the kitchen.

“Sup Charlie!” Newt called to him from inside his cubicle which was half hidden behind a shiny black SUV.

Chuck waved and gave some generic answer as he trotted up the stairs to the conference room. It was deserted this time of day so he could rummage the fridge to his heart’s content. If something didn’t have a name written on it, it was fair game- house rules. He found two doughnuts and a piece of birthday cake that appeared to be unclaimed so he helped himself. He enjoyed his sugar rush while reading all the salesmen’s stat boards. It was no surprise that Herman was out selling Newt by volume, but when it came to the individual value of the units Newt had a higher sell point. Charlie was on to the second doughnut and pondering on the higher mathematics involved in that weird anomaly when he heard Herc’s voice somewhere very close by. Time to beat a retreat.

Moving swiftly he ducked out the second door to the large too open room and away from the business office where he guessed Dad had gone. Unfortunately this path left him only one choice, literally there was only one door on this side and it was to the General Manager’s office, but when he heard Herc enter the conference room he had no choice but to take the leap. He would just cut through the big office and be able to go back down to the show room via the other exit- everything was interconnected in dealership.

Charlie carefully opened the door and balancing his slice of cake backed into office, being super careful to shut the door without a sound. He was so pleased with his master plan he forgot to take something into consideration first…that the office might not be empty.

When he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him the blood froze in his veins and the cake almost took a header on to the oriental carpet under his grass stained sneakers.

“Charles…..” the voice was low and stern and could only belong to _one_ person.

Oh shit…shitshitshitfuckinghellshitfuck. Oh god why?! Pentecost _never_ worked on Saturday! What hell!? Of _course_ this would be the one exception to that rule, fuck his life and his luck. Seriously.

Putting on his most adorable and charming smile he turned and faced Stacker Pentecost. “Hi…” he said. All he got was a cold and unyielding stare from over steepled fingers. “Want some cake?” he offered the plate lamely.

“What are you doing in my office?” Stacker asked.

There was no good way out of this. Nope. None. “I ugh….was cutting through…hiding from Dad.” He hung his head in literal shame.

Pentecost sat back in his chair and appraised Charlie Hansen with a look that would make a lesser being melt, but he was his father’s son and therefore mostly impervious. The Hansen’s were a tough species to sweat, but Chuck was starting to feel a couple notches above uncomfortable now. He wondered if he should just back out the door he came through and run for his life…or what….

He was just about to take a step that way when Pentecost spoke again and froze him, “Is he making you fix that god awful office of his?”

“Yessssssssssssss!” It came out as more of a whine then he intended adding to his shame.

“It’s like a goddamed apocalypse down there,” Stacker muttered.

“That’s _exactly_ what I said!” Chuck laughed.

Pentecost gestured to the chair in front of his desk, “Have a seat and enjoy your cake.”

Too stunned to do anything but comply Chuck plopped into the chair and started to eat the cake he no longer even wanted. It was just a nervous reflex at this point. Follow orders and get the hell outta there.

Half an hour later when Herc had exhausted all the other places his son could be and was considering calling the cops, he barged into Pentecost’s office in a mild panic only to find the object of the search seated in the Italian leather chair behind the desk walking the General Manager through some operation on the computer.

“…see it’s really simple...” They both looked up at him like he was interrupting some sort of critical military operation.

“Oh what the hell Charlie! I’m sorry Stacks, I’ll take him back downstairs….” Herc preemptively apologized.

Stacker held up a hand to cut him off, “Nonsense, he’s helping me with this. Consider him promoted…”

Chuck looked between them a couple times then grinned like a cat that swallowed the canary at his Dad. Herc just looked heaven ward and supplicated some god for grace. “Alright, when you’re finished with him just send him back down…he’s got stuff to finish.”

When he was gone Chuck looked up at Pentecost in silent supplication.

“Go over it one more time, slowly….” He offered the boy a rare smile, “This might take a while.”

All day maybe if Chuck was lucky. And really underneath it all he really was.

 

 

  


**Author's Note:**

> I really did grow up in the dealership. From a very tender age I was my father's 'assistant'. For many years I was his only defense from being buried alive in the piles of paper that accumulated in his office. I was cheap labor, usually bought out by pizza or some other food bribe. Lunch was catered in on Saturday's (as a buy off to the suckers working) there was always SO MUCH FOOD around, no one ever complained of starvation. I learned so many things hanging around, how to do orders in GM's RAPID system (I was so good at MS DOS!), all sorts of fancy and colorful swear words (courtesy of the mechanics); but most importantly i got to watch my dad interact with his customers and his team and learned how to be a good manager- those skills i use everyday at my job. I am really so thankful i had the opportunity to learn those things from him. I know now first hand that being a manager takes a lot more work and dedication then it appears on the surface, and i can only hope i am doing half as well as he did and that i might occasionally make him proud!


End file.
